Pluvia
by slyfoxlady
Summary: Ed catches Mustang taking his brother to a strip club. Being the nosy person he is, he follow the two everywhere, only to find what he least expected… Ed/Roy Roy/Ed implied Al/Scar
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: ** Language.  
**Summary:** UA Ed catches Mustang taking his brother to a strip club. Being the nosy person he is, he follow the two everywhere, only to find the what he least expected… Ed/Roy Roy/Ed implied Al/Scar  
**A/N:** Humor/Romance with a somewhat serious plot mixed in. . . Pluvia means _Rain_ in Latin. First chapter is mostly just introduction. The chapters will get longer, I promise! Not entirely sure when this takes place, I'm just kind of winging it. But I imagine sometime after brotherhood. I've yet to look over this for mistakes.

**Pluvia**

-Chapter 1

_"You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist."  
_-Fredrich Nietzsche

* * *

Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Damn. His desk was littered with so many papers he couldn't even see the mahogany desk underneath them. Putting all the papers through the shredder was an idea that occupied his thoughts for some time, but actually doing it was another thing entirely. The Lieutenant was anything but sweet, and if she caught him slacking even a little, it would be only a moment before he had a few bullets through his head. Or more.

He sighed again, his hand holding his head up as he glared numerous holes into the white sheets before him. Due to the mess in front of him, he couldn't even pinpoint the calendar he bought just the other day. A wicked smile formed on his lips as his hands got to work moving the white pieces of hell off of his desk and to the side.

"Aha," he mumbled to himself as he found said item, eyes settled onto the calendar before him, a big breasted woman in a seductive pose showing herself before him. He wouldn't admit that even though he bought it to get a good laugh from the straight-laced men who came in and out of his office, it was also secretly for his amusement. Nothing made his day better than a good-looking woman winking at him from afar. He spared a moment to hang it up, smiling mischievously to himself as he pictured the Lieutenant's face upon discovering it. But that quickly turned to a frown. She'd destroy it upon seeing it.

He wasted another good ten minutes finding an appropriate place for it where said woman couldn't get her grubby hands on it. On the wall behind his desk is where it found its new home; Roy could only smile.

Until the door to his office shot open and a tall blond came walking in-or more like stomping in-and before he could comment on her awful mood, she snapped a quick," sir, if I can have a moment of your time."

Roy whirled around in his chair to face her, eyes dancing with amusement. "Anything for you."

She ignored the comment and held out a stack of papers to him. "These need to be signed immediately. Fuhrers orders."

He scowled at the word. "Always ruining my fun."

"More work and less play-" but her words were cut off, and Roy watched as her features scrunched together, an annoyed look taking place of her usually stoic one. "I thought I threw that calendar away?"

Damn. She caught on quick. "I just bought her a few days ago. Beautiful, isn't she?"

The look on her face said otherwise, but she made no move to comment any more on the subject, eyes darting back to black ones. "It's late; I'm surprised you haven't run off yet, sir."

The sides of his lips slowly rose at her comment. She knew him too well. "I was just about to make my escape, care to join me?"

She rolled her eyes at this before setting down the stack of paper he refused to acknowledge. "I'll be taking my leave now, sir. Don't work too hard." There was a hint of a smile in her voice. She knew he was planning to hightail it out of there as soon as she walked away. She turned to leave.

"Riza," he called to her retreating figure. She stopped, but didn't turn around. "I leave the rest to you."

"As always, sir." The door shut quietly behind her.

If there was one person he could trust, it was her. It wasn't unblinking loyalty, quite the contrary; it was earned over many years together. Having that type of woman on his side was an asset.

Normally, he'd spend the rest of his night lounging over paperwork and empty coffee mugs, cursing and sighing his way through mounds of white, wishing he was anywhere but work, silently hoping the fuhrer would keel over so he could finally taste his dream— but today was a special day. It was Thursday. Though it wasn't entirely something he looked forward to, it was a welcome distraction from his work, and an intelligent conversation over beer was always welcomed.

* * *

As Ed rounded the corner, all he could think about was how much he didn't want to see Mustang. Or Colonel Bastard. Whatever.

He spent the last hour hurriedly writing up his report, and to be honest, it was less than legible, yet he couldn't find it in himself to care. A twinge of guilt proceeded a smug smile as he imagined Mustang spending an hour trying to read it. No less than the asshole deserves after sending him out North to work on some secret alchemy assignment. Without Al.

The bastard.

He turned another corner, Mustang's door in sight when he abruptly stopped, eyes wide as he ducked back to the corner and peeked his head out.

There Al stood, waving a hand and walking into Mustang's office. What the hell?

Ed contemplated what could be going on. Al wasn't in the military, so why would he show up here, and not to mention he looked damn happy! Something wasn't right. What was the Colonel Bastard up to with his brother?

The two emerged minutes later.

Ed stuffed the report in his pocket—he didn't care whether it was ruined or not, as long as it got there—and made it his mission to follow them. Whatever was going on couldn't be good, and he was going to find out what.

Only minutes into covertly following his superior and his brother did the urge to strangle Mustang appear. It didn't happen right away, but slowly with precision only a ladies-man like the Colonel could pull off, he had wrapped his arm around Al's shoulders and pulled him close, smirking as he told his brother something.

He was going to fucking kill him! The only thing that kept him from doing so—a flimsy reason at best—was the fact that he wanted to know what was going on. If anything his damn brother was enjoying the bastards company! Was there something he was missing?

No.

Fucking Mustang was up to something, and he was going to find out what.

Ed kept quiet and followed them until the two stopped; arm falling from his brother's shoulder (about damn time) and said arm pointed to the door.

He read the sign and blanched.

They were going to a strip club?!


	2. Chapter 2

**Pluvia**

-Chapter 2

* * *

Ed stood outside the bar contemplating whether he should follow them in or not, pacing back and forth as ideas whirled around in his head, but ultimately he found himself inside sitting on the other side of room, eyes locked onto his targets. He was nursing a coke in one hand, the idea of drinking anything else not even passing his thoughts.

He glared daggers at their table.

Ed was not one to find enjoyment in strip clubs, women dancing around poles did less for him than reasons he'd ever admit to out loud.

Who the hell named the place Mustang Sally's anyway? The name had to be a coincidence.

How did Al and the Colonel end up becoming friends? Ed tried not to act jealous and picked up his coke, taking sip after sip in anger, all the while keeping his hands busy. It was all too tempting to go up to Mustang and throttle the man for taking his brother to a place like this! His sweet, innocent brother, who in no way had any type of feelings for the bastard, was somehow laughing and having a good time.

No way in hell. Right?

Damn him.

The flashing neon lights were starting to give him a headache. With nothing left to distract him, his gold orbs fell upon his superior and brother.

Mustang leaned in close to Al's ear, whispering something, and Al smiled and turned his head. Ed was too far away to hear anything, and for that he was secretly thankful.

"Excuse me, sir. Would you like me to refill that for you?" a woman questioned, smile wide.

Too close. "No thanks." He waved his gloved hand at her, now starting to believe he had enough of this place. Yet he was too curious, or maybe just too pissed, to leave. Whatever was going on, he wasn't about to find out from this far away.

He shoved the glass away from him and stood up, receiving a questioning look from the lady, but promptly ignored it for a more important matter. Ed decided if he was going to find out what was going on he'd have to take risks. He took some money out of his pocket and left it on the table.

Sitting only a few tables away was said risk, and at least he could hear their conversation now, for better or for worse.

"What do you think?" Mustang had asked.

"It's a great idea. Do you really think it will work?" Al wondered, voice contemplating.

"Of course. I'm never wrong." That trademark smirk. Ed wanted to wipe that look off with his fist.

"Good. I don't want brother to take it the wrong way."

Take what the wrong way? He was missing something important from this conversation. Ed could only frown at the words, tens of theories running wildly through his conscious.

"If anything, he'll be happy for you." What the hell would he know? That prick was just saying whatever Al wanted to hear. Manipulative jerk.

Ed decided he would wipe off that smirk with his automail fist instead. That would be more painful and a lot more fulfilling.

"I'm glad. I really should get going; brother will worry if I'm not home soon."

"I'm already worried," Ed muttered, golden eyes switching between the two. One question lingered in the air and had yet to be answered, and by the looks of it, would be left that way. Why did they go to a strip club to talk? Women were dancing all around, but neither paid much attention. Not even Mustang, considering his track record, Ed finding him uninterested was a little hard to believe.

Mustang abruptly stood up and reached out his hand, lips turning up. "I'll walk you there, but first, there's something I think you'd like to see."

"You mean...here?"

"In the back. Come on, I'll show you."

Al beamed up at him. Too innocent for his own good. "Thank you, Colonel."

"You can call me Roy—"

Ed coughed at the last part, and quickly, realizing how loud he'd been, took the opportunity to hide his face while his body whirled around to face the other way. "You can call me Roy," he mocked, arms crossed. "Who the hell does he think he is?"

By the time Ed looked back, Mustang and Al were already heading through a door in the back that read "Employee's Only" on it.

"Employee's Only?!" What could he have to show Al that was back there? Wasn't he here to woo women into his bed for the night and somehow string Al along with him? Unless they went back there for a different reason? Ed could feel himself blush at the thought and quickly erased it from his head. Hell no!

He waited a few minutes before leaving, barking an angry "what" at the people staring at him.

Food would make all of this go away, and then tomorrow he would pay a visit to Central Headquarters.

* * *

His door flew open and proceeded to bang against the wall. Mustang didn't even need to look up to know who the culprit was. "What do you need, Fullmetal?" He was in a sour mood already. This was an unwelcome distraction.

"Fuck, you know what-"

"I'm sorry, sir. I tried to send him away, but. . ." Lieutenant Hawkeye interrupted.

He sighed and looked up, the Lieutenant had an amused look on her face, and Edward stood a few feet from his desk, face twisted in anger, arms crossed and a prominent scowl on his features. Not to mention he was soaked from head to toe. Another sigh.

"You're dripping on my carpet, Fullmetal."

"You know what, fuck you. This is all your fault!" He had his finger pointed toward Mustang accusingly.

He could only raise an eyebrow at this. "Oh, really?" It was a little early for accusations.

"Yeah, really, you bastard!" Ed's body shook with anger, but Roy couldn't find it in himself to get mad. The scene was altogether too hilarious. "You, y-you…!"

"If you can't manage one coherent word, I suggest you come back later. What good does a cold, wet dog do for me besides get the carpet dirty?" The words left his mouth before he could even try to filter them. Ed just made it way too easy.

"I-I'll be back, you hear me?!" The threat fell on deaf ears, Mustang already back to his paperwork.

"Hey, Fullmetal?"

"What?" he snapped, gold eyes making their way back to his face.

"Do you have something for me?"

Something must of clicked in the blonde's head, for he stomped over to Mustang's desk, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a wet, scrunched up piece of paper. "Here."

"Is this what I think is it?" Was Ed really going to give him a soaking wet report? Then again, with him you had to expect the unexpected.

"Shut up and take it," he growled.

Their eyes met for a moment, both refusing to look away.

Mustang watched as Ed shifted his eyes and stopped on something behind him. "What the hell is that?"

Forgetting what was there, Mustang took a quick look behind him before a huge grin broke out. "Like what you see?"

Ed's face scrunched up in something that looked like disgust. "No...I mean, ugh. Never mind." As if he had nothing more to say, which was odd for said subordinate. Ed turned around and walked away, muttering "sick bastard" as he disappeared out the door.

That was not the reaction he expected. Something about it was strange...

He spared a glance at Hawkeye, a knowing smile playing across her features.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Nothing, sir." She was still standing there.

"Is there something you need?"

"No, sir. I'll go get someone to clean up this mess right away." The smile faded as if it was never there in the first place. Weird.

His office was finally quiet once again, the tapping of rain drops hitting the window being the only noise around. It was soothing, and it tried to lull Mustang into slumber. The thought of sneaking out sounded like a sound idea.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**A/N**: Not checked for mistakes.


End file.
